I ran, swinging my arms for momentum and running faster than I'd ever run before. Pushing forward through the forest and trying not to trip on the wayward roots of evergreen trees, I moved toward my goal. The rain was falling slowly, it was cold, getting dark and smelled of damp foliage disturbed by my pounding feet.

"Martin!" I screamed, "Martin! This isn't funny any more! Mom says you have to come home!" At that moment, panting heavily, my throat hoarse, I tripped. Some roots underneath me had taken the wind out of me, and I gasped on the forest floor. As I sat up I looked to see what I had tripped over, and that's where I saw it, a shoe and a leg sticking out from behind a bush. The shoe belonged to my brother, Martin.